


The Tragic Tale of Timothy Lawrence

by DualDreamer



Series: Blob [2]
Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Body Horror, Cannibalism, Eating Disorders, Force-Feeding, M/M, Magical Bond, Self-Hatred, Unhealthy Relationships, and sweet innocent Timmy going through hell... literally, come in if you want to see nasty demon jack, no happy ending it only gets weirder, storyteller au, this has absolutely nothing to do with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-01-15 19:55:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21258767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualDreamer/pseuds/DualDreamer
Summary: Timothy tries himself on writing a book for the first time.A story of suffering and self-loathing... sounds vaguely familiar. But is it?





	1. Humble Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> READ THE TAGS

The paper was rustling while he flipped through the pages and the little noises sounded like promising whispers. While he had been working Tim had pretended not to notice how they were piling up but now that his work was done it was impossible to ignore. With his hand he firmly brushed over the pages in a cheap attempt to smoothen them out and let them appear less voluminous. But it was futile: There was no doubt that his story had gotten longer than he expected.

"Oh, hell… don't tell me you've been serious?"

Tim flinched when a voice piped up behind him and swiveled around in his chair. He straightened up as best as he could, wincing when his back protested from sitting too long in the same position, and faced Jack who leaned casually in the open doorway. Tim hated it when he did that. Unfortunately Jack had an old habit of sneaking up on him and took pleasure in doing so.

"What do you mean?", Tim asked, nervously tucking a stray lock behind his ear. Jack rolled his eyes in response.

"Don't play dumb, kiddo. You're working on that weird writing project, aren't cha?"

Instead of answering, Timothy slumped back into his comfy chair with a sigh and rubbed his eyes. There was no point in denying it. He heard Jack entering the room and coming closer while Tim’s only protest against that was to mumble into his hands. This was a lost fight anyway and yet it felt necessary to show a little resistance, even if it was just for himself. To make himself feel less of a pushover. Of course Jack’s ears picked up on the weak insults.

“What was that? Geez, you gotta speak up, kid. You can’t even talk properly and call yourself an author?”

Tim groaned, a red tint crawling up his neck.

"I'm a writer, Jack… we _ write _ our thoughts."

“I still don’t understand why you’re so obsessed with writing this. What’s the point in a story if you don’t have anyone else to listen?”

“It’s supposed to be therapeutic…”, Tim mumbled.

“Alright. Let’s hear your story, bubble boy. I’m sure you made it a neat little sugar fantasy to cope with your sad feelings.” He tried to peek over Timothy's shoulder. "How far are you?"

Timothy immediately scrambled to move his body so it would cover most of the desk. Jack huffed and crossed his arms.

"Come ooooooon, cupcake, I'm in it too. I wanna know what you wrote about me. And you will show it to me sooner or later anyway, so what's a little peek among friends?" He put on his most charming smile and if Tim did not know him better he would see it as encouraging. "I don't mind spoilers."

For a while they just stared at each other: Tim with his jaw set and panic in his eyes, Jack as unnervingly confident as always. After a while Tim felt the tension draining from him and his gaze fell on the floor. Hell, what did he even have to lose anymore? Certainly not his dignity. He still hesitated for another moment but then he began to speak, his voice timid but slowly getting braver with each word.

"I'm… I am-", he cleared his throat and started over. "Actually, I'm done. I… I finished it. The whole thing."

"Oh."

Carefully, Tim glanced up at Jack. He actually seemed to be surprised. His lips were still slightly agape, stuck in the shape that formed the quiet sound Tim had heard, before they relaxed, and with them his whole face. Jack ran a hand through his hair before he nodded and looked at Tim with something like mild respect.

"Gonna give you some credit, kid, you're fast." Jack patted his back and then let himself fall into one of the other chairs nearby. It was plush and even more comfortable than Tim’s desk chair. With a wide gesture he signaled Tim to start.

"C'mon, now I want to hear it. Tell me your tale, princess."

Timothy took a deep breath and collected the finished script on his desk. While he wandered over to Jack and took a seat opposite of him, he desperately tried to calm his nerves. His fingers trembled and he could not suppress the urge to gnaw on his lips. This was more than just a story. It was baring his mind - and his feelings - to the only living person who would ever know him as himself.

No more hiding.

Timothy exhaled. And then he began to read out loud.

* * *

A mind deprived of all senses is so much more vulnerable. Even the tiniest stir in the air can feel like a storm. The creature smelt his visitors long before they arrived. It had been so long that he had almost forgotten how, and his nostrils flared when they inhaled the first scent in centuries. Here, in the void they had thrown him into and made his prison, their mere presence was cutting through the air and burning sharp in his nose. After spending so much time in solitude it ignited his hunger anew, like a knife breaching his skin, twisting and coiling in his belly. His body had been starved to weakness and yet he could feel his limbs trembling in their restraints with excitement, fueled by a familiar energy: The anticipation of a delicious meal.

Handsome Jack smiled and waited for his prey to make it all the way down to the bottom of the pit. The guards took their sweet time but chains could teach a man patience. Their odour grew stronger the closer they got and he soaked it all in. By now he could tell that they were trained warriors, demons like him, and fighters of the finest quality in strength and discipline. It was in their scent.

Power.

But also _ fear _.

They were so strong, and yet so weak.

In the face of a bigger predator they would always tremble and stay on their toes. 

_ Beware of Handsome Jack, or he'll scoop out your eyeballs and eat them for lunch. _

Every child knew to fear him, their frightened parents whispered the tales of horror to them before tucking them into bed, quietly, afraid that his name alone could summon him or one of his followers. But even those who had never heard of his name would feel the threat when they were in his presence. Danger was practically oozing out of him, even now, despite the bonds and spells that chained the demon. The restrictions did not make him any less intimidating.

The guards were cautious of Jack, avoided any skin contact and efficiently worked on getting him ready for transport. They had to loosen the numerous chains that anchored him to the platform, unbreakable metal enhanced with eridium and magic that made sure his backside was forever uncomfortably pressing into cold hard stone. In their haste the guards failed to keep an eye on their surroundings. They were too busy watching their prisoner to notice the traitor hiding in their middle.

They locked eyes for just a moment, but it was enough for Jack to see the glimmer of obedience in them - the absolute loyalty each of his followers held for him. Before he got caught Jack built an entire cult around him, and he knew despite the years of absence his influence was like weed: once its seed was planted it would only continue to grow, even without nurturing. The eye contact broke and then the false guard began to lean into Jack’s direction, shifting their weight just slightly to get a little closer...

It took nothing more than a split second for Jack to charge forward and tear into the throat that was offered. He moaned as the first drop of blood melted on his tongue but the cry of pain that accompanied it was even sweeter, it was the sound he longed for all these years - oh how he had missed this.

To his utter disappointment the rest of the guards ripped the other from his greedy mouth all too soon. He barely got a taste, nothing more than a drop of water on hot stone, not even close to sate him. Realistically seen, swallowing the whole body would not have been enough to kill his hunger - he was a greedy glutton, always yearning for more. But he did not care for that right now, he had something else on his mind.

Revenge.

As soon as his teeth were sinking into the more than willing flesh of his victim the insistent tugging had started: The blue binding seal embedded in his face came to life, registering the forbidden taste and sending it straight to the other end of the line. He could practically feel the shudder running through his captor, the unwanted sensation surely summoning a wave of nausea in them. They would taste what he ate, and as predicted a wave of disapproval came back.

Jack wanted to laugh but the sound coming out of his throat was more of a cough - despite the recent lubing with blood his voice was still weak from years of disuse. He wheezed and it hurt but he didn’t stop, his broken cackles continued and suddenly the seal began to burn.

His flesh was on fire, but Jack did not let it bother him: Somewhere a hypocritical bitch was suffering and reeling in disgust, and payback felt just _ so good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to yet another fic, we start out tame and ease slowly into the madness, more is soon to come.


	2. One Last Chance

Far away from the prison cells, the clack of heels broke the peace of silence. Brisk, determined steps echoed through the otherwise empty corridor. Nobody was allowed in this part of the devil's lair, hidden away in the very heart of hell. No one, except the lone warden that stood at the end of the hallway, frozen and chained by a myriad of spells, sworn to eternal loyalty. Forced to protect one room forever.

The heels came to a stop.

“Is he still in there?”

The warden made an affirmative noise. 

She stepped through the door. It was like entering a different world: Everything was warm and colourful, a stark contrast to the dull stone walls on the outside. There was not a single spot without a carpet or cloth thrown over it, pillows were scattered across the floor, though most of them were piled up on a huge bed in the center of the room. A sweet scent hung in the air, of cinnamon and vanilla. Of youth and innocence.

A man sat in the corner furthest from the entrance. With his arms tucked under his knees, he was trying his best to make himself invisible and small, but at her entrance, he startled. For a few seconds he stared at her, eyes widened in fear. He could have been called cute if he was not shaking so hard. A splatter of freckles adorned his face, the skin was pale yet healthy looking and smooth. Unfortunately, these gentle features were distorted, twisted in utter terror, and suddenly his hands found their way up into the mob of auburn locks on his head. The human curled up on himself again, now clutching his hair and swaying back and forth.

The devil ignored him. Instead of walking to the whimpering mess, she made her way over to the bed. Her gaze flickered over the soft mattress, the velvet blankets and silky pillows, calculating. Then she simply flopped down on her back. The stiff posture seemed to seep out of her and just like that the cold-hearted ruler of hell was replaced by an exhausted parent. Erzala silently stared at the ceiling before she opened her mouth. 

“Really, I can’t believe you. I gave you all you ever wanted. I brought you the easiest meal on a silver platter, went through the trouble of handpicking him _ myself, _and yet you refuse everything you’re getting offered.”

Nearby, next to her left arm, something moved underneath the blanket. She sighed and lifted it to reveal a quivering round orb made out of goo, a translucent dark mass sprinkled with a couple of red dots inside. It fit easily into her hand when she scooped it up. Small pinpoint eyes blinked at her before they shuffled around and tried to hide their face by pressing it against her fingers.

“Just look at what you've done to yourself, darling. You've starved yourself down to nothing. Now you're almost the same size as when you were born. Do you not care at all about yourself? Or about my feelings when I have to see you ruining your life?”

The tiny blob twitched uncomfortably.

“Are you even listening to me?” She glared at them. _ “Timothy?” _

The sole heir to the throne of hell, Timothy Lawrence, currently a ball of jello, finally stopped fidgeting where he was situated in his mother's palm and slowly turned around. Under her sharp glare he seemed to shrink even further.

“You have to start eating on your own at some point”, she reminded him. It had been a long time now since Tim matured to the fullest and his hunger, his need to feast on human souls awakened. To hunt laid in every demon's nature, even if her son had been a late bloomer. But he stubbornly refused to fit in. Despite the fact that an adult could no longer thrive solely on the natural energy that was freely available in the atmosphere, he would not touch any soul they threw his way.

The gooey little guy only made a sad noise.

“Tim, _ words._”

The harsh tone accompanied by a light warning squeeze snapped him out of his mute state. Though his voice was nothing more than a soft whisper, Timothy finally started to talk. It would have been easy to miss if it was not so quiet, aside from the occasional sobs still coming from across the room.

“...I’m sorry.” He sounded like it was painful for him to say this, maybe because he knew how much it would hurt her. “I just... I can't.”

Erzala eased up her grip immediately and pouted. “I thought you liked this type of human, with dots like yours.”

Timothy let out an horrified shriek.

“I like their _ look._ But I didn’t mean that it makes me want to _ eat them!”_

A shadow fell over her face. Thoughtfully, she began to gently cradle him in both hands, resting him against her chest. It confused him, but the familiar touch of her hands that followed soothed his worry a bit. He wished she also would give up her form like she sometimes did, slipping out of the humanoid shape she took on as part of her role as the devil. Then it would be just them, two shapeshifters in the vulnerable raw state they were born in. A side only he could see. But tender moments like these never held long ever since he started to disappoint his mother. The hands around him tightened again.

“Timmy… I didn't want to force this on you.” She sounded so serious, but she always was when it came to the things that mattered to her.

“Do you think I locked you in here to punish you?” He looked up, searching her eyes, but they were shut, did not let him in, and she did not wait for an answer. Her pain, however, was written all over her face. “Do you even know what’s happening around you? The looks these bruts throw your way, how they talk behind your back? Not just that you’re weak, no, they already start to see you as _ food. _You are seen as nothing more than a _ snack _ by the people who should fear you!”

Timothy was trembling and he wished she would hug him close and tell him that it would be alright like she used to when he was a child. But instead she let go. He got carefully placed on the mattress and now he longed to have his arms and legs, wished to crawl over and reach out, to stop her from sitting up and leaving the bed - and him - behind.

As it was, he could only helplessly stare at her back.

“I love you, Tim.”

The words were soft, and loving. They gave him hope, but only for a brief second.

“I love you. I love you so much. But if you aren’t embracing your nature, _ who you are _... then I can’t keep shielding you from the world any longer. I’m sorry.”

He stilled. Her voice was calm, but the note of affection from before was gone and the tension in her body had returned. A cruel darkness was boiling just underneath the surface. The devil had earned the throne by force, but never before Erzala had given her son a reason to fear her. In this moment, while he watched her digging her nails into her skin till it bled, he was not so sure if he would stay an exception.

She took a deep breath and he used the opportunity to speak up.

“Mother, please, I-”

“No.”

The finality which with she cut him off scared him, as did the next step she took away from the bed. It let him see her face again. The sweet smile he found there was chilling him to ice and yet he felt his body melting into a cowering puddle. 

“You had your chance. The training wheels are off now, Timothy. If you can't accept who you are, you have to go.”

_ ‘Go where?’ _, he wanted to ask, but could not get out more than unintelligible garbage, unable to form words in his panicked state. She understood him anyway.

“Later, sweetheart. I will fill you in soon enough. But first we have to fill something else. You can't walk anywhere like _ this._”

Erzala threw a disapproving frown at his small form before she stalked over to the long forgotten human who pressed himself against the wall with a helpless cry when she closed in on him. Tim’s eyes widened in understanding, and he could barely shut them to spare himself the sight of the slaughter. It was a pity that the blood curdling screams and the sound of something pure, something _ struggling _ against being ripped out with force could not be blocked out so easily. The silence returned disturbingly quick, only to be interrupted by the cheerful call of his mother.

“Oh, my sweet little Tim…”

She came back, and he did not just hear her coming closer. He could smell it. Cinnamon and vanilla, now stronger than ever. He had been resisting it for days, resisted every other meal. No, not “meals”, he did not want to think of them like that: They were _ people. _They came and went, left unharmed because he was expected to reap their soul with his own hands.

Not this time.

And with the hunger tearing on his insides he would not be able to reject it.

The bed dipped under her weight and he could feel the thrum of the prey she brought with her, ready to feed him.

_ “Be a good boy and eat.” _


	3. Staged Trial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Tim finally meet... not under the best circumstances. Not for the best reasons either.

Jack was bored.

The guards ignored his manic laughter as well as the guy bleeding out next to their feet, not even granting their former colleague the mercy of ending his painful struggle. Instead they dragged Jack all the way out of the pit, now with more caution than ever. The group was climbing the stairs at a moderate pace and the pitiful noises behind them eventually quieted down. Maybe the poor sob died, or they were just too far away to hear the cries of agony, who could tell? The silence left Jack with nothing to do but observing his surroundings. It was refreshing to see something other than a black void and his own chained body, even if the bleak hallways outside of the vault were not exactly exciting. The underground tunnels that connected the prison cells with the rest of the building needed to be practical, not pretty. While some minor things changed, the outlay was still the same. Back in the day, when he was still a free man, he had been lucky enough to count himself among the few chosen ones in the inner circle of the devil‘s court. That was before he began his coup to overthrow them. He helped the devil conquer their throne… and they thanked it him with a stab in the back.

Jack experimentally jerked in his bounds, pushing against both physical and invisible chains, trying to move outside of walking where the guards were guiding him. To his bitter disappointment his feet mechanically followed their lead. His body acted like a doll, taking one step after another in the ever same rhythm. This was what the devil had turned him into as a punishment for his supposed crimes: A prisoner in his own body, barely able to regain a little control if he put all of his strength behind it.

“Struggle all you want, you filthy scum”, sneered a guard that noticed his attempts to fight the magical binding, “you won’t get away from your fate.”

“Ooooh, big words. And here I thought you were giving me the silent treatment. Did I freak you out earlier, cupcake?” Jack stuck out his lower lip, mockingly letting it quiver. The guard said nothing but a twitching muscle on his face betrayed his feelings. Jack was satisfied with that for an answer.

“Where are you bringing me anyway?”, Jack continued. “Did the court suddenly decide after 600 years that I’m innocent? Or does the big boss just miss my face?”

One of the quieter guards snorted. They all exchanged meaningful glances, the kind that annoyed Jack to no end because he knew they would not share their information.

“You’ll see.”

That was all he got. They brought him into a wide, open room that Jack still remembered from his last trial. The first thing that caught his eye was the new, tacky throne on the opposite of the room. It was empty and therefore not worth his interest for longer than it took to imagine himself lounging in it. His gaze wandered and fell on the rows filled with gawkers, seated high above him. At his entry they had gone silent but once they adjusted to his presence the crowd was buzzing again. It would have been different if he was not restrained… None of them would have dared to draw attention to themselves if there was the risk of him ripping their heads off or snapping their spines. Stupid peons.

However, he did not bother to memorise their faces. Once he was free he would just kill everyone in this god forsaken place and they were small fries who did not deserve special treatment in form of a unique death.

Speaking of the devil, someone who had earned this “privilege” entered the courtroom. A flicker of light, a slight shift in the air of the room announced their entrance first. Jack was carefully watching the spot they would most likely appear and his prediction turned out correct when the floor darkened before the throne: A slimy fluid was oozing out of it, shaping and shifting until it formed the body of a pale woman with long, curly hair and dark eyes.

Tall, slender and elegant… Erzala always had a certain preference with her bodies, but as a shapeshifter the devil was bound to no limits. She was like a fruit with ever changing flavours, eternally kept in its ripest state, and Jack’s stomach growled at the thought of what it would be like to taste her. Literally. Her sight alone was enough to make saliva and venom pool in his mouth, and the urge to maim flooded his veins. The little smirk that curled the side of her lip did not evade his attention and Jack’s brow twitched in annoyance. She could sense his bloodlust through their bond... and as always it amused the old hag to no end.

It was tough decision what Jack wanted to do first once he got free: killing her, or eating her. He planned to do both, but the order was still open to consideration. Just thinking about it made him lick his lips. He could taste a bit of blood on them that he missed earlier, and he knew she was aware of his disobedient behaviour as well. The movement drew her attention and she frowned when her eyes fell on his lips, a tint too red, too lively for someone who spent the last few centuries in prison - the physical evidence to what the bond already had told her. Then they wandered lower and lower, no doubt following the sticky trail down his neck. He liked to imagine that there was a tinge of desire in her eyes, that she was not as good at suppressing her hunger as she thought. Her gaze lingered a second too long and when she looked back up there was a shameless grin on Jack's face. 

“Oh, I'm _ so _ sorry, sweetheart”, he said in a honeyed voice, feeling not remorseful at all. “When you sent this juicy little snack to fetch me, I just couldn’t help myself, y’know? Thought it was time for my last meal. And they were just _ begging _ for it, really.”

Erzala pressed her lips tightly together, visibly suppressing the urge to skip the procedures and sucker punch him straight in the face. One long sigh later, she leaned forward and was flashing a smile of her own at him while she addressed a servant to her right.

“See if you find a gag for that one.”

An amused huff came in response from him.

“Oh, come on, now you're just being petty. The damage isn't even that bad. Just a teeny-tiny bit of the throat is missing. Could have slapped a bandaid on it for crying out loud.”

Jack was not half as offended as he pretended to be, but of course he could not miss out on an opportunity to get on her nerves. He waited six hundred sixty six years, three months, two and a half day for this chance, but hey, who was counting?

The eye-roll it earned him was nice, but only an appetiser. He wetted his lips again. “So, why did you bring me here?”

He lowered his voice till it was only a hushed whisper, but from the shiver that ran down his spine, a tremble that was not his own, he knew she heard his words: “Are you finally going to eat me, cupcake?”

Erzala swallowed and avoided his eyes. Jack stared her down, but a cracking sound drew his attention somewhere else. He smirked when he saw her ruining the armrest of her throne, but it quickly faded away after what she said next.

His eye twitched. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

She huffed, still not looking at him, but already regaining her composure.

“I said ‘no’.”

Jack snarled. This was an obvious lie.

“What else could you want from me? Kill me? Oh, wait, you _ can't, _I’m fricking immortal. Are ya putting me back in the little hole you had me stashed in? We both know that's not going to work forever.”

He leaned forward, greedy desire stretched his mouth into a wide grin, putting his glimmering teeth on display.

“You can’t get rid of me, sweetheart, and I will eventually find a way of that hellhole, making you pay nice and slow...”

“Not everything is about you, Jack.”

She finally looked at him, her gaze cold and distant - a stark contrast to the sudden burning of his seal that forced him down to his knees. Jack keeled over and panted, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort not to scream. He hissed, shoving the still pulsing pain aside to throw her a venomous look.

“Everything is about me, darling, this whole circus is-”

“Shut up", she interrupted him. “This isn’t just _ your _ trial."

Jack just stared at her blankly.

“What.”

Erzala’s smile in response was the sweetest poison and he knew her long enough to recognise when she planned to humiliate someone. That did not stop him from finding it kinda hot.

“Sit tight until it is your turn. But -”, with a contemplative tap of her finger against her lip she sighed, “- that’s too much to ask, isn’t it? You’re _ always _ talking… We just can’t have that today.”

The seal began to glow again, but this time no pain was coming forth. Instead a strange tingle began to spread through his head and he shuddered at the alien feeling inside his veins, slowly crawling from the scarred flesh towards his mouth. His eyes widened when he realised what was happening and Jack tried to protest but too late: His mouth would not open anymore. An electric presence was filling his lips, the heavy pressure on them almost felt like a kiss. It glued the pair together, effectively sealing his mouth shut.

“Now”, she said, throwing one last satisfied grin at him before she turned around towards the throne and waved at the two guards to her right. “Bring him in.”

The guards stood at attention, giving a salute before they walked to the throne… and past it. From behind could be heard the sound of doors creaking, swinging open till they crashed against the walls. A murmur went through the crowd and the people above him leaned forward, stared at something that was out of Jack’s view. Regardless of how much he craned his neck, it was blocked by the sturdy throne. He wanted to stand up again, but his legs were just a dead weight keeping him down on the floor, and straining his ears to hear what the crowd was whispering about was made impossible by the sheer mass of blabbering idiots. His eyes narrowed with suspicion.

What could be more interesting than him, Handsome Jack?

The answer was disappointing, to say the least. He nearly missed the pathetic bundle of clothes the strong, burly soldiers had squeezed in between them when they returned. The young man they escorted looked so fragile as if he could break apart if they tugged a little too harshly. Soft ginger curls fell into his eyes, nearly hiding the way they jumped all over the place in their panic, unable to focus on anything for long. Meanwhile his body was stiff with tension, his shoes were scratching and stumbling over the stone floor every few steps as if he forgot how to walk by himself.

“Jack.” Erzala’s voice was quiet, too soft to be overheard by the crowd above, and she wore a wary expression. “This is my son, Timothy.”

He was suddenly glad she did not gag him for real or he would have choked on it. Jack could not open his mouth but his face contorted into a twisted grimace that stretched his lips, involuntarily laughing but unable to do so in earnest. He had to force himself to calm down because him sitting there with bulging cheeks and desperately breathing through his nose must have looked almost as ridiculous as what Erzala just said.

Jack mustered the brat. This “Timothy” was not a looker, that was for sure. No meat on those bones and the appearance of an awkward, freckled young man made him question if the kid even had shapeshifting powers like his mom. If he did, then the poor boy was cursed with bad taste. But he had her eyes… a black sclera, voids that swallowed all light and were only illuminated by the iris. Erzala’s were an icy blue, as cold as a stormy day and shimmering like arctic lights. But her child… his were tinted red, the scarlet shine teasing him like two droplets of blood.

Their eyes met by accident and for a brief moment the ginger kept his head still to take a good look at him. He must be a curious sight, all tied up and dishevelled. The dirt Jack accumulated over the years spoke volumes about the length of his imprisonment, let alone the stench. So the brat had absolutely no right to look at him like a soaked puppy, like _ Jack _of all people could help him, and the reminder of his own predicament made his guts boil with something dark and nasty. The stupid kid quickly avoided him when Jack’s eyes began to burn holes into his with their fury. Pearls of sweat began to gather on the younger demon’s face that had nothing to do with the temperature in the courtroom and a lot more with his struggle not to squirm under all the negative attention.

Good, Jack thought bitterly.

Suddenly the mood in the room changed, the weight of thousand eyes shifting back to the center and Jack felt them needling his skin from all sides, the chatting coming to a peak just before Erzala cleared her throat. The room fell silent in an instant and it was then that Jack found something was off.

They all fell into their roles too easily. There was no more curious chit-chat, no hushed questions to be asked into a neighbour’s ear. Everyone but him was in the loop, they clearly expected something to happen. Jack searched the rows for a friendly face, a hidden worshipper, anyone who betrayed their sympathy to him… but came back empty handed.

Erzala began to talk before he could wonder what this meant.

“You all know why we are here today. Well, -” she threw a fleeting glance at Jack and, strangely, her son “- most of us do.”

Erzala began to pace the room, wandering along the walls of the arena.

“Today there are no humans to be judged. But I still brought you two sinners: Two of our kind who won't play by the rules…"

Jack shot a surprised look at the man next to him. The young thing was shaking like a leaf, hardly convincing as a criminal on the same level as himself. How many demons had to be eaten before the own mother would disown you? Was one enough? Or maybe being related made the betrayal even worse. It sparked a bit of interest in Jack. However, Erzala let him stew in the suspense.

"You all know Jack, and what he did. Once a prime example of what it means to be a demon, an excellent hunter who brought in many human souls. But his hunger outgrew the usual hunting grounds and he decided to feast on us instead…"

He perked up at the unusually tame speech. Did the old hag grow soft on him, or what was the purpose of practically praising who he used to be?

"It's a shame, isn't it? If only he could control himself…"

She stopped before Timothy.

"And Timothy. Some of you know him, most of you don't. He is…"

She fell silent for a moment. Nothing on Erzala’s face betrayed what she felt, her facade smooth and impeccable as always. But Jack could feel something inside him break and it did not belong to him. Then she turned away.

"He is nobody important.”

Jack might not have an emotional link to the kid, but he could practically hear Tim’s heart cracking next to him. This was slowly developing into some soap drama and he did not have any snacks on hand. A shame.

“Timothy here is wasting his life. He never hunted nor ate a single human soul by himself."

A scandalized gasp came from the crowd, Jack rolled his eyes at the overused ploy while Tim hung his head in shame, neither used to so much attention nor to be humiliated. For Jack this public stunt was a walk in the park but the kid? He was shaking under the pressure.

“He thinks it’s wrong to hunt. This is not just a rejection of a demon’s most basic, natural instinct and need. It is an insult to all of us. Tim. You disappointed me. You are betraying our ideals. I promised that I would do everything to keep our world in balance. And I intend to fix this situation.”

“Mom…”

Timothy finally opened his mouth to defend himself.

“Please stop, I- I just can’t be like everyone else.”

“Quiet.” Erzala glared at her son who immediately tried to squirm away from her harsh eyes. “You’re embarrassing me.”

At this point Timothy looked like he would leak snot and water any second. Jack almost felt bad for the kid. Getting chewed out by the own mother in public like that? Ouch. But it was for such a stupid reason that he could not muster up any sympathy even if he was capable of such feelings. Starving himself? Please. In this world it was eat or be eaten.

And the longer he listened the angrier he got. This ungrateful brat spat on what life gave him. If he wanted so desperately to break out of the circle, little Timmy should have thrown himself before the next demon and become food instead. But instead he hungered himself down until he was not even good enough for that. What a _ waste._

“You need guidance, Timothy.” Erzala stared at the pitiful creature. Jack had no idea why she did not give him the mercy kill he so clearly wanted. But parents can not help but feed their children it seems, even if their kids are losers. “Someone who teaches you to eat.”

He stilled, shaking in silent rage. It was painfully obvious what point she was trying to make. And Jack-

“And he”, her eyes fell back on Jack who could only watch while they decided about his future like it was nothing. Erzala scoffed. “He needs to eat less. You are a perfect match.”

Jack wanted to scream. There was no way he would let her bind him to this pathetic excuse of a demon. He tried to tear his mouth apart, did not care if it would be torn into bloody pieces, but his flesh was stretching like gum and burning like fire when it reached the limit. Jack bucked, struggled inside the binding but it kept him in place.

Behind him, he could feel Erzala preparing for the transition, bundling her power. She was draining the little bit of energy he had earned by biting the guard, sucking it out before it could be added to his reserves. It could have happened by accident but Jack was sure she did it to spite him. Neither of them needed that light snack.

“Timothy. You are banished from this realm until you eat properly. When you finally become a true demon you can come home.”

She walked around Jack, out of his view, her looming presence hovered uncomfortably behind him, while she began to lay out the terms of the new "contract". Last time she tricked him into it, playing the terms in her favour, this time he won’t even have a choice. Each footstep that brought her closer to his back sent a shiver down his spine.

"Jack. The Handsome One. The Glutton.” She paused, before adding another title with a slightly disgusted note. _"Th__e Destroyer… _ You are not allowed to feast. You are forbidden from interacting with humans other than to help Timothy. Once you leave this realm you can not interact with any demon but Timothy, without exceptions. You can do _ nothing _ to harm Timothy. All you do, every single breath you take, every act, every _ thought _ must be to his benefit.

Her hands found their way on his head, cupping the back and threading her fingers through his hair in a familiar manner that made him want to instinctively lean into the touch and jerk away from it at the same time. She was pushing from behind and suddenly her hands moved further… and sank into his flesh. A silent gasp escaped his lips at the intrusion; the sensation was disorienting beyond reason. He could feel her inside him, feel her going through his head, his brain, his eyes, until she reached the other side. Jack shuddered when her fingers broke through his flesh, there was no real pain, but it felt like his body was rearranged and the vision in his left eye was fading. Then Erzala grabbed the scar, hands curling around the arched golden bow like a steering wheel, just like she was steering Jack. His right arm raised itself without his consent, hovering in the air like it was waiting for a handshake.

“Tim. Take his hand”, she pressed out with effort. Controlling the bond was taking up all of her concentration. Tim flinched, and his eyes briefly flickered up to her, but he could not stop gawking at Jack, at the hands that were currently piercing through his face. He was scared.

_ “ _Do it NOW, Timothy”, Erzala hissed impatiently. She would not be able to hold this state for long and Jack saw his chance. He swallowed his pride and forced himself to look at Tim, letting his face soften. Jack was pleading, begging him with his eyes. It did not matter what he was asking for, he only wanted to waste time, to get the kid on his side, whatever was necessary to give him an opening and break free.

Timothy hesitated. His gaze flickered between Jack and his mother. It was the choice between the unknown and the evil you know. But in the end he took his hand.

‘Truly a mommas boy’, Jack thought with a scowl before his brows shot up in surprise because Tim was sinking to down on one knee all of a sudden.

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

Apparently this was not part of the protocol Erzala had in mind. Jack shivered from the cold fury coming from behind, but the younger demon in front of him grew himself a pair of balls out of nowhere and stayed where he was. Erzala’s grip on the seal tightened and Jack cringed when little jolts of shock ram through his face like lightning.

“Stand up right now”, she snarled. “This is entirely inappropriate.”

Tim just shook his head. He stopped trembling and while he still cowardly shied away from his mother’s disapproving gaze he stared straight ahead at Jack who liked what he saw. There was an odd spark in those red eyes, a tiny bit of defiance which had been enflamed. Jack grinned at him.

_ Finally something to break. _

It looked ridiculous, both of them kneeling and holding hands like a couple of children, but as long as they were rebelling Jack cared little for appearances. Quite the opposite, this was just too good to be true. The devil’s own precious child was openly rebelling by bringing himself down to the same level as Jack, an oh-so-filthy criminal.

This was almost poetic.

And by now it was to late for Erzala to change something about the situation.

The pact was completed… and the old bond was slipping. The pressure on Jack’s face lifted and retreated back to its host. His eyes widened when the feeling in his arms, his legs, his whole body returned. He snatched his hand out of Timothy’s grasp and wiggled the fingers in glee before they clenched to a fist, relishing in the undiluted strength and the rush of power flowing through him, and his freed lips parted to reveal pointy teeth. With a roar Jack charged forward, he didn't care which direction he took, they were all prey to him. People were screaming, as they should, and it sent a pleasurable zap down his spine.

However, just before he reached them he was choking. His hands clawed over his throat, trying to get rid of the dangerous pressure, but he only found his own flesh. Black spots danced before his eyes and Jack stumbled backwards. Suddenly the pressure around his neck lifted and he could feel something slithering over his shoulder with each further step he retreated. When his sight came back, his eyes fell on his arm and he froze on the spot. Golden, glowing lines were flowing over his skin and settled around his wrist, weaving a pattern that vaguely resembled a chain.

_ Great. _

Instead of the permanent iron grip that had strangled him into total submission Jack was now on a leash. The arena was emptying quickly, the audience fleeing like cowards. He turned around to look at his new bonding “partner”. A fancy word for master. 

The boy had fainted from the shock. Now that Jack paid attention to it, he felt the strange new connection between them. In the past Erzala had used her bond to keep Jack under control, nothing more, nothing less. There was no exchange allowed between them except for what fleeting bouts of emotions managed to slip through. With Timothy, there was a constant trickle of energy streaming from Jack towards him, feeding and nurturing the younger demon. Not much, he was barely feeling it. But it was there… and while Jack’s body always looked like it was on the brink of starving, in reality he had endless reserves from years of indulging his hubris. A little leech was not a problem, but for how long would he be stuck with that useless parasite?

He stared at Erzala who gently cradled Timothy in her arms. There was a strange softness in her eyes, a vulnerability Jack had never seen in anyone around him, especially not in her. Hell was a hard place to live, there was no room for love. When she noticed him watching, her face fell. She picked Tim up with ease but handled him like a fragile glass doll. It left a sour taste in his mouth.

“You disappoint me, old hag.”

“Excuse me?”, she bristled. "Old? You're the one getting grey hair."

"And whose fault is that, huh?"

Jack strolled over, automatically moving to put his hands into pockets that were not there, and covered up his slight mistake by brushing dust from his pants.

“The show you put on was really nice, but this”, he vaguely gestured at Tim and her, “is the real you, isn’t it?”

He stopped before her and the urge to rip out her throat, to wrap his hands around that slender neck until it cracked was there. But he could not act on it. Not yet. Jack felt the invisible chains running through his body, heard them rattling in his bones when he thought about stepping out of line. ‘Patience’, he whispered to the voices screaming for bloodshed inside him, ‘the time will come.’

Out loud, to her, he said: “Hell is not a nice place. It’s survival of the fittest. You’re _ coddling _ him, babe.”

A single punch sent him flying to the ground.

“Careful, Jack”, Erzala said, her voice low and lacking warmth, “I can hurt you again now.”

Jack pushed himself up and rubbed his aching chin. That hurt like a bitch but he had much worse. 

“Good to know. Why would you trust your kid with me if you love him so much?”, he questioned. “That makes no sense, you’re practically serving him to me on a silver platter.”

She hauled him up to his feet. They were face to face now, squishing Tim between them who only stirred lightly.

“My baby boy has refused to eat ever since he saw where his food comes from. Do you have any idea what that is like? To see your own flesh and blood torturing themself, day in, day out, loathing their own existence? He hates being a demon, he hates himself and with each time he refuses another meal he deteriorates a bit more...”

She leaned in, so close that her breath tickled his ear now.

“I couldn’t convince him. And I can’t do this anymore, helplessly watching while he is in pain every goddamn day.” Something wet hit Jack’s shoulder but in the next second Erzala laughed. “I know you have enough hidden pudge left to keep you both running for a good while. But if _ you _ don’t get him to eat, you’ll starve together. If you don’t want to lead a miserable existence with my son forever, you better teach him to accept his nature… and be his good obedient pet.”

She pulled back and smiled. Jack gave her an incredulous look.

“You’re sick.”

“Maybe”, she snorted, finally letting go of him, “but at least I’m not on a leash. Now come on, Jackie, heel. It’s time to leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I was really busy, sorry. I hope you like it? Let me know what you think.


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